Ethan looked down at the small town. It had no defenses and nothing about it suggested importance. The only reason he had found it was the faint lights in the distance and slowly narrowing his search range until it revealed itself.

  This was new territory for him, and because of that he chose a careful approach.

  He knew that now, with his higher level and advanced cultivation, he stood above the average person on this level. But the average was low. Most people picked noncombatant classes, which made them weaker. Not necessarily lower leveled, just weaker overall. Still, there were plenty of people on this level who could demolish him. People pushing level fifty and their second class evolution. Against someone like that, he would not stand a chance unless everything went perfectly. The stat difference alone would be overwhelming.

  He did wonder, though, if he might now be on Alex’s level.

  Alex had started with a rare class and likely had equal or higher cultivation. Ethan wasn’t sure where the balance stood. Maybe when he saw him next, he would test it.

  Most of his anger about not being informed had faded. He understood the reasoning well enough. If their roles had been reversed, he would have made the same decision.

  But at least he had finally found this place. It was deep into the night now, and he questioned whether walking down there immediately was the right decision. If the Valkyrie had been correct, something was wrong in Arrow Town. So despite the feeling of time strangling him, he decided to wait and observe.

  Unfortunately, waiting had never been his strength. But still, he would try.

  Even though he was exhausted, he decided to stay awake. He sat on the dune, removed his pack, and leaned back against it, settling in for the night. As he watched the settlement for anything unusual, he focused inward on his cultivation. Level One made it nearly impossible to reach the second stage, but he could still gather mana and refine his core, pushing it as close to the threshold as possible.

  So he did exactly that.

  He slipped into a controlled rhythm of meditation while keeping one part of his awareness fixed on the town. It was actually pretty hard to achieve. Ethan doubted many people would be able to split their attention like this. It was something he had picked up while learning his own cultivation technique. But he knew his method wasn’t the strongest. Which was something he would be changing.

  Not for the first time, he cursed the guilds for hoarding cultivation techniques.

  He had always believed joining a guild was pointless. During his first run through the trials, he had been a blade for hire. Independent. Free. But when he eventually learned that a proper cultivation technique made all the difference, it had been too late. He had already carved his own path and passed the second stage of cultivating. Which locked you into whatever form of cultivation you had adopted.

  Now, he understood why people joined.

  So, he sat there, half in meditation and half paying attention below. The rest of the night passed, and then so did the next morning.

  Ethan spent part of it shaping his core, drawing mana in steadily and compressing it into the molten mass at his center. Most of the time, however, he simply waited and watched. He changed position occasionally so he would not be spotted from below.

  So far, he had seen absolutely nothing.

  By all appearances, Arrow Town was just another settlement. Smaller. Poorer. Lacking infrastructure. But otherwise normal. People milled about. Some carried weapons and left the town, likely heading out to hunt. Others worked small stalls or hauled supplies, going about their daily routines in this broken world.

  It felt like a complete waste of time.

  So Ethan stood.

  He wasn’t going to learn anything from a distance. Maybe if he waited weeks, something would surface, but he was not prepared to do that. He had already waited too long. He should have entered immediately. Now, he felt like he had just wasted more precious time.

  He brushed sand from his clothes, adjusted the bulletproof vest beneath his shirt, and began walking down the dunes toward the settlement.

  [Keen Sense] flared as hard as he could manage. Nothing would catch him unaware.

  He walked through the beginning buildings. Information poured into him. Sound layered over smell. Subtle shifts in movement. The tightening of muscles. The rhythm of breathing. Sweat. Agitation. Calm. Not literal emotion reading, but physical cues that revealed far more than most people realized.

  He missed nothing. But there was nothing to miss.

  Unless every person in Arrow Town was a master actor, he sensed no immediate threat. The people he passed looked tired, distracted, focused on their own lives. No one tracked him with unusual intensity. No one reached for a hidden weapon.

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  Still, he kept his hands relaxed at his sides, ready to draw his sword at a moment’s notice.

  Ethan moved through Arrow Town at an unhurried pace, giving himself time to observe the place.

  A few people sat on overturned crates near the center of town, watching him openly. They did not try to hide it. Their gazes followed him as he passed. Ethan noticed, of course he did, but he kept walking as if he hadn’t. They just looked like they were checking out the new arrival.

  He drifted toward a stall where a younger boy stood behind a rough wooden table laid out with dried meats, water skins, and basic tools. The boy could not have been older than fifteen. He was looking down as he rearranged skewers over a small coal brazier.

  Ethan pretended to browse.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noted movement across the square. Men and women were tightening straps, checking blades, adjusting packs. Small groups formed and then filtered toward the edge of town, heading out into the desert, just like he had seen others do the day before.

  “Busy morning,” Ethan said casually, picking up a skewer and inspecting it.

  The boy shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Lot of people heading out.”

  “Mm.”

  Ethan glanced up at him. “Why?”

  The boy looked mildly surprised he had to explain it. “They’re going to the Oasis.”

  Ethan lowered the skewer slightly. “They’re challenging it?”

  “Yeah,” the boy said, like it was obvious. “Most of them are. Town’s close enough. Three days if you move quick. People come here to rest before they go.” He looked pointedly at the skewer in Ethan’s hand. “You going to buy that?”

  “Sure,” Ethan replied, while considering what the boy had told him.

  It made sense on paper. Still, Ethan studied the departing groups more closely. From the way they held themselves, from the weight in their steps and the looseness in their posture, they did not look particularly strong. That was not an absolute measure. You could clear the Oasis at a lower level. But if you were combat focused, it usually paid to push as high as possible before attempting it.

  These people did not look ready.

  He handed over a coin and took the skewer. The boy bit the copper lightly before pocketing it and returning to his work, blocking Ethan out.

  Ethan turned away with a shrug, chewing thoughtfully.

  So Arrow Town was a staging point. A pit stop before the Oasis.

  That meant steady traffic. It meant people with combat experience. It also meant the residents would be accustomed to danger, especially considering the settlement had no visible defenses. No walls. No reinforced gates.

  He continued walking, eating as he went. Something else struck him as strange. There were no guards.

  In most settlements, the controlling guild kept at least a token patrol moving through the streets. Even small ones. They would have approached him by now. Taken his name. Asked his business. He was armed and clearly not from here. That alone usually earned a conversation.

  No one had stopped him though.

  He finished the skewer and tossed the stick into a small bin beside a rundown building. From inside, he heard laughter, accompanied by the scrape of chairs and the thud of mugs against wood.

  A crooked sign hung above the door.

  A bar.

  From experience, bars were the best place to gather information. Especially the dodgier ones.

  He let [Keen Sense] extend slightly, brushing the interior with the lightest touch. Nothing of importance surfaced. Just men drinking their morning away.

  It was sad, in a way.

  People entered the trials and lost everything. Family. Stability. Their old lives. The next logical step for many was to drown that loss in alcohol. Ethan had seen it countless times. Maybe that was why the system conveniently provided a tavern in every first-level settlement. Another test to see if someone had what it took to reach the next level, or if they would fall into despair.

  Those people would likely fail the Oasis.

  And when the level began to crumble, they would be left behind.

  Ethan pushed the door open.

  The smell of alcohol hit him immediately. Sour. Stale. The place was dim despite it being morning. Light filtered weakly through grimy windows, illuminating dust in the air. A few shady figures sat hunched at benches, mugs in hand, eyes half-lidded.

  Several heads turned when he entered.

  He ignored them and walked toward the bar.

  Before he even reached the counter, the bartender looked up.

  She had a sharp, hawk-like nose and thin lips pressed into a permanent scowl. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her expression made it clear she had already decided she disliked him.

  “Fuck off, kid.”

  Ethan stopped.

  He looked at her for a long moment.

  “Sorry,” he said evenly. “What was that?”

  The bar lady didn’t flinch.

  “You heard me,” she said flatly. “Get out of here. You’re far too young.”

  Before Ethan could respond, a voice called out from one of the tables near the back.

  “Ah, leave him alone, Mara,” a man slurred. “Kid’s got guts walking in here. Let him have a drink.”

  A few chuckles followed.

  “Yeah,” another added. “Come sit down, lad. We’ll treat you right.”

  Ethan felt something hot coil in his chest.

  They started bickering between themselves and the bar lady. Laughter rolled through the room, ugly and hollow.

  Weeks.

  Weeks of sand. Of monsters. Of politics and lies and near misses. Of being so close and yet never quite there.

  And now this.

  These idiots.

  These bottom feeders who had found a half-dead settlement and decided to rot in it.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The words cut cleanly through the room. The laughter died. The scrape of mugs stopped, and everyone turned to look at him.

  The man who had first called out stared at him like he’d just grown a second head.

  “What did you just say?”

  Ethan didn’t look away.

  “You heard me.” His voice was calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable. “I’m sick of doing this the polite way. Sick of all this shit.”

  He turned his gaze back to the bartender.

  “Valkyries have been going missing here. Tell me now if you know anything about it.”

  For half a second, there was nothing. Then the man at the table burst into laughter.

  “Get a load of the balls on this guy!” he crowed, slapping the table. “That’s what it’s all about!”

  A few others joined in, though more hesitantly this time. Ethan ignored them completely and kept his eyes on the woman. Her expression hadn’t changed, but her shoulders had stiffened.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, boy,” she said. “And you’re causing issues. If Valkyries passed through, they were heading to the Oasis. Same as every other idiot who thinks they’re ready. You really need to leave.”

  Ethan exhaled slowly through his nose.

  “Look,” he said, voice steady, but he was quite frankly done. “I have a feeling someone in here knows exactly what I’m talking about. And I’m not leaving until I get my answers.”

  Chairs scraped against the floor. The laughing man stood, swaying slightly as he straightened to his full height. He wasn’t particularly large, but there was a mean glint in his eyes now.

  “And how the fuck,” he asked, smile stretching thin and unpleasant, “are you going to do that?”

  Ethan dropped his bag to the ground and pushed it under the bar.

  “By any means necessary.”